


Fog of War

by RisuAlto



Series: Bad Things Happen Bingo [6]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Angst, Canonical Character Death, Crimson Flower AU, Gen, Hurt No Comfort, Post-Timeskip | War Phase (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), Spoilers for Post-Timeskip | War Phase (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), Suicidal Thoughts, and he died a while ago, for like one sentence but just in case, it's Dimitri
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-29
Updated: 2019-12-29
Packaged: 2021-02-27 05:21:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,122
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22011763
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RisuAlto/pseuds/RisuAlto
Summary: A year after Dimitri's death at Edelgard's hands, those who survived to remember him return to Gronder Field to pay their respects.AU where Byleth joined Edelgard, but Ingrid, Sylvain, and Felix survived the battle at Gronder despite remaining loyal to Dimitri.
Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd & Felix Hugo Fraldarius & Ingrid Brandl Galatea & Sylvain Jose Gautier, Felix Hugo Fraldarius & Ingrid Brandl Galatea & Sylvain Jose Gautier
Series: Bad Things Happen Bingo [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1548286
Comments: 2
Kudos: 25





	Fog of War

**Author's Note:**

  * For [shinyivyleaves](https://archiveofourown.org/users/shinyivyleaves/gifts).



> The prompt was, "Bounty on Their Heads," for the Bad Things Happen Bingo.

There was fog. Heavy and lifeless, shifting around them like a river as they walked, the currents of mist seemed to wear away color and life like sediment. Whatever cheer or glory may once have adorned Gronder Field was long washed out, replaced with the kind of ennui that was so beloved in ghost stories.

Felix kicked himself for thinking it, boots squishing against the dead earth. Him, considering that there might be tortured faces in the fog? The thought was so saccharine and twisted that he could choke on it.

The worst part was, in a place like this where every breath was consumed by the fog, Felix wasn’t sure he’d be able to stop himself.

Something coiled its way around his wrist, and Felix reflexively drew his sword. A corrosive, whining screech sliced the air as a shower of sparks erupted from somewhere near his waist. The combination of star-like lights in his eyes and the ringing in his ears jerked Felix back to reality. He hadn’t realized he was floating away from it, really. Mostly because there wasn’t much difference. It was just that only his chest felt heavy, now, instead of all his limbs.

Ingrid’s green eyes swam into focus before him. Her jaw was almost as sharp as the blade Felix had drawn—

He looked down. His sword was still locked against the back of her gauntlet between them.

Scowling, Felix pushed his weapon back into its sheath, barely resisting the urge to wince as he felt the grip of the leather unravel even further. “What are you _doing?_ ” he hissed. _You know not to startle me. I could’ve…_

“You went somewhere else,” she said. The words were soft, but flat, all traces of warmth lost to this place.

Felix’s hand tightened on the hilt of his sword, and he said nothing. She was right. But there wasn’t anything to do about it.

“C’mon, guys. We’re almost there.” Both Felix and Ingrid snapped their attention towards the voice, spotting Sylvain almost swallowed by the fog up in front of them. As much as Felix thought that it should have helped them focus because it was _Sylvain,_ the truth was…his voice hurt. It was bright and cheery, but against the backdrop of this dead place, the sound was like nails on slate. 

Felix winced, but it did, strangely, help. Walking forward again, he released his sword and rolled his wrist gingerly, fingers curling and uncurling until something like feeling returned to them.

“Can you see it?” Ingrid asked at a stage whisper.

Sylvain waved a hand to one side as they caught up. “No, but listen—you hear the river, right?”

Felix did. The sound of water crawling through a glorified ditch was almost white noise, but it was there. They weren’t far off, then.

“There!”

The voice was a man’s, but it was nothing like Sylvain’s, and that was enough for Felix to reach for his sword again. A _thwip_ sounded from nearby, and Felix looked behind them to see smoke rising from the shaft of a once-burning arrow now buried in the dirt. “The Chancellor was right! Don’t let them get away!”

“ _Shit,_ ” Sylvain growled, drawing his lance. It was the most genuine feeling Felix had heard from him in months.

Ingrid, too, grabbed her weapon, falling in with the two of them until her back was shielded by theirs, and vice versa. “Byleth knew we’d come,” she muttered, but despite the steadiness of her stance at Felix’s back, he thought she sounded dazed. Like despite _all_ they had suffered at Byleth-and-Edelgard’s hands, Ingrid had somehow held out hope that this wouldn’t happen.

“I told you this was a bad idea,” he said. _But you came anyway_ , gurgled his mind. _You were hoping, too_.

A volley of arrows whistled towards them from the fog. Only two even came close to hitting them—the archers were shooting as blindly as they were defending—and Ingrid avoided one as Felix cut down the one on course for Sylvain’s shoulder. 

Sylvain nodded in thanks, but just said, “We can argue later, but we need to run. Away from the grave!” Felix felt the shaft of Sylvain’s lance nudge him in the side. To the west, he thought, but there was no sun visible to confirm it.

“Can’t you call Aegis?” Felix asked Ingrid, but he was already moving, trusting that Sylvain and Ingrid would keep an eye on his blind spots.

“There are too many archers,” Ingrid said, voice as quiet as it could be over the sound of their footsteps. “We need to get farther away fir-- _Sylvain_!”

“Ngah…!” Ingrid’s arm was already around Sylvain’s waist by the time Felix turned around. The wound wasn’t nearly as bad as he was expecting, but it didn’t make the sight of blood running down Sylvain’s side any easier to see. “It’s a graze,” he said through clenched teeth, already pushing Ingrid’s arm off. “Keep going!”

Felix stepped back past them, putting his offhand on Sylvain’s arm and pushing him off at an angle. “Change direction,” he hissed, raising an arm to draw the sigils for Thoron in the air.

“Got it,” Ingrid said, pushing Sylvain with her.

The spell was discharged before they had even taken a few steps. Lightning surged from Felix’s fingers towards their enemies with the ferocity he wished _he_ could use personally. But the enemy’s numbers, the fog, this whole _day_ and Felix’s damned _feelings_ about it were all against them. He let the aftershocks power a second burst of the spell before he, too, swerved off course and after his friends.

It felt like hours before Ingrid finally pulled them to a stop and whistled for her Pegasus, but the truth was that they couldn’t tell. The sun was still hidden behind the tree canopy and shadowed by the low storm clouds, and none of them was willing to take their eyes off their surroundings to track the passage of time. Sylvain leaned heavily against one of the trees nearby, still clutching his lance.

There was no sound left except their breathing. And though it tore free from their lungs and through their throats, it could not cut through the profound, immovable fog.

“So, we didn’t make it,” Ingrid said.

Felix scoffed, only _just_ resisting the urge to slam a fist into the tree nearest him. _Fucking obviously_ , he wanted to spit, but the words wouldn’t come.

“We can try again,” Sylvain said. “Just, you know…another time. He’ll rest in peace ‘till we can.” The words were as fragile as a dew lattice. Pretty, but ephemeral at best and more likely a fantasy.

_Peace_ , after all, was the greatest lie they’d ever known. 


End file.
